Harry Potter and the King of Demons
by Dark-Prince-of-Clowns
Summary: What if Harry hid in a haunted house one day while hiding from dudley's gang, and stumbled across the great and powerful King of Demons Asmodeus? And in his infinite, and somewhat schemeing, wisdom, he offered Harry the contract of a lifetime; Power and Knowledge in exchange for Harry becoming a servant of his, his agent upon earth. And how will the wizarding world react?
1. The Darkest Night

Harry Potter, age 7, was running. This was a sadly common occurrence in his young life, ever since his obese cousin Dudley had invented the game of "Harry Hunting" with a few of his friends. For someone that fat he was surprisingly quick on his feet, although that could be because he had longer legs than his malnourished cousin Harry.

Harry was silently cursing to himself as he could hear his cousin gaining in on him, and there were no adults around.

"Shit, shit, shit!"

He looked around, praying to any god, demon, or other entity for some place to hide, a small hole in a fence to slip through, anything! He fought back tears as no such thing was in sight, and he made a decision that made his small heart jump in fear, as he spotted the haunted house on the hill.

All the grownups hated the old Ericson place, and all the children feared it. Even Dudley and his cronies were too scared to even set a foot on that property, after what happened to the last people who tried. Harry shuddered as he pushed the thought of the two missing teenagers out of his head. The grownups said they'd just run away, but all the kids knew...they KNEW it had been the evil spirits haunting the old Ericson's place.

Harry swallowed the lump building in his throat and pushed himself to run faster. He reached the door and twisted the doorknob frantically, it didn't budge.

"No, no, no!" Harry whimpered.

He heard Dudley and his gang having slowed down, appearing to hesitate to even set foot on the property, but if he didn't get inside, Harry was sure they'd sooner or later get the courage to go get him, even with the sun slowly setting, casting dark, haunting shadows across the dilapidated property and the cold, dark courtyard.

Suddenly the door opened, and Harry tumbled inside, rushing towards the nearest closet he could find and hiding inside it, just in time to hear Dudley and his pals creep up after him. From the sound of it, they were struggling with the door too, and Harry whimpered as he heard Piece kicking the door. He knew the old door couldn't possibly stand against such force. Not when it had opened for Harry as easily as it did.

Harry waited…and waited…the door didn't budge. He could hear them trying the windows now, and he had to choke back a cry of fear as a stone shattered one of them. He could only hope that they didn't manage to tear off the boards from the windows, but he could hear them trying. And cursing. And the shadows grew longer, and the house grew darker...

Suddenly he heard crying, screaming, and yelling from the outside, then the running of feet. He sobbed silently, even more worried now, wondering what could have scared the toughest gang in town. Wondering if whatever it was would get him next. Harry forced himself to be silent, even as he heard the creaking of the floor.

Footsteps resonated on the floorboards.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Each step bringing them closer and closer to Harry. The small child in the over-sized clothes pushed himself back into the furthest corner of the closer, silently sobbing, trying to be so quiet that nobody would notice, hand over his mouth and his eyes bulging from fear. His glasses had been lost somewhere in his attempt to escape Dudley's gang, which made his whole world blurry, and everything even more scary, as he no longer could see properly. Not that it mattered too much in the dark anyway.

With a slow creak, the doors of the closet were opened, and the dying light of day flooded in behind a tall figure that crunched down in front of the closet. Long auburn hair, slightly on the side of red rather than brown, and a pair of eyes that shone in an eerily green colour was looking down at the whimpering child in the corner. If Harry had been able to see his face properly, he would have noticed the man was exquisitely handsome, almost pretty, but not so much that he would be mistake for a girl...even with his hair flowing halfway down his back.

"Hello little one," a cultivated voice spoke softly, making Harry's eyes widen in conflicting emotions.

How could this possibly be what scared off Dudley's gang? It couldn't! The red hair and green eyes tugged at something in Harry's heart, and gave him a sense of safety he could not remember ever having felt. But it felt like someone he had known but forgotten. A vague half-shaped memory of a female voice soothingly humming followed it, but that served only to confuse him more. As it was now, what he felt was safety, and familiarity. How strange he thought to himself, not understanding why he felt what he did. But he kept silent, not trusting his voice. Not knowing what to say.

"Come now, child... It can't be very comfortable in there, can it? Wouldn't you rather want to come and sit on the sofa out here with me? I just want to speak with you, child."

The man smiled and reached out a hand to him. Harry was still terribly scared, but he reached out and took it, not daring to refuse a request from an adult. He had learned to do as he was told or suffer the consequences.

As the man carefully pulled him out of the closet, Harry noticed that the room was lit by a soft glow of many lamps. At least, Harry assumed they were lamps. They were blurry and had that soft, orange glow to them that older lamps often had at least. He let the man lead him over to sit on a couch, while the man himself took a seat in an arm-chair. If he hadn't been in such an upset state of mind, he might have wondered how it came to be that a house that have been abandoned for years, and dilapidated to boot, suddenly had become such a haven of warmth and light, and…was that a fireplace? Where had that even come from? Harry had not noticed a fireplace when he came into the room, but he admitted to himself that he had been scared out of his wits, and the last thing he had payed attention to was what the room looked like.

"Well, then…Harry." the man said, addressing him by a name he had never before heard, that somehow still sounded familiar to his ears. "Would you perhaps want some tea and scones? All this running around must have left you hungry."

Harry stared at his with wide eyes, nodding rapidly.

"Yes please, sir!" Harry spoke eagerly.

It had been days since he'd had a remotely decent meal, and it was even longer since he'd had tea. He gasped as there suddenly appeared to be a tea tray on the table, in what appeared to be gold, rather than the usual silver. Harry rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was seeing things.

The stranger proceeded to pour out tea and moved a plate of scones over to Harry, although for some reason it almost seemed like he was never quite touching anything…not even his own tea. It was as if it vanished, rather than him drinking it. But Harry dismissed it as something caused by his blurry vision and he added some milk and sugar to his own tea and almost moaned in enjoyment over the tea.

He never got any candy, hardly even food. This was luxury. He moved to grab a scone and break it in half, applying clotted cream and jam with an unsteady hand, just like he'd seen his aunt do whenever she had people over for tea. As he took his first bite, Harry decided that nothing, NOTHING could possibly taste better than this! Helped by his constant hunger and his lack of access to anything remotely tasty, this was an incredibly delicious meal.

The man merely looked at him, sipping his own tea as he smiled at him in a reassuringly charming way that made Harry relax. It was now clear that the sun had long since set, and the world had been plunged into darkness. The shadows flickered and moved almost as if they had a life of their own, and the lights flickered like flames licking the wall, and there was a strange smell permeating the air, but only very vaguely...something almost like rotten eggs, drowned in perfumed oils and ashes. But it vanished under the steaming hot tea and the very freshly baked taste of the scones.

All the while Harry wondered why this man was so nice to him. Nobody had ever been nice to him his whole life. Everybody always believed the mean things that aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon said about him. About how he was a delinquent. About how he stole and lied. How he was lazy and rude. Nobody even asked him about it, they just took the words of his aunt and uncle and treated him like dirt. It always made him sad, but a very, very small part of him was angry. Just a little bit. But whenever he voiced his anger, his uncle got mad. Really mad. And his aunt would slap him. Bad things would happen. So, he learned to push that anger down, but it was still simmering, far below the surface, locked away.

"W-why did you call me H-Harry?" Harry said, tasting the name.

"Because it is your name of course. What did you think your name was?" the stranger asked, although Harry got the distinct impression that he already knew, and merely asked to be polite.

"Boy. Freak." Harry paused as he realized those weren't actually name. "Dunno..."

He blushed and lowered his head in shame. Harry hated it when his uncle called him those things. Deep down, he knew it wasn't right. That it was bad. But he always thought that was just how things was. Something that just WAS. You can't change things that just ARE. You just accept them, as a fact. Without thought. But he was beginning to think about it now and that anger was slowly simmering up again, no matter how much he tried to push it down.

When the stranger smiled a sharp, predatory smile, even if it lasted for barely a second, Harry thought to himself that he knew. Somehow, the stranger knew about his Dark Hot Feeling. For some reason he couldn't even explain...he felt as if the man approved. Harry was filled with wonder at the thought.

"Don't you ever get tired of being the underdog? Don't you want to get away from all of that? Don't you ever want to take revenge against everyone who hurt you, to make THEM hurt? It would only be fair, after all they did to you~!"

The man spoke with a darkly seductive voice, flowing like chocolate from his lips, and with such passion it had Harry lean forward and nod rapidly at every word. It made his entire body fill with the desire to hurt them, just like they had hurt him! It would be only fair! The man went on, speaking such enticing finality that Harry could not help but to agree with him. It had his head spinning with possibilities that he had never before even known existed, much less dared to act upon. But now…now that Dark Hot Feeling permeated his small body, making him almost dizzy with righteous rage, and the NEED to hurt someone, something!

"Do you want to hurt someone, Harry? Do you want to make someone suffer? Anyone?"

Harry forgot everything he had ever been taught about right and wrong. How would he even know? Everything he did was wrong, so what then was right? The telly just made things up all the time anyway, he couldn't trust a word those people there said. Although he felt a little hesitant when the man pulled a cat up on the table. It looked like the one that his babysitter had that scratched him whenever he was dropped off there.

"It hurt you Harry. Remember? It has to be punished!" the man told him, and Harry felt himself agreeing.

It was a bad cat. Bad cats had to be punished! He would no longer allow anyone to hurt him, he'd been hurt enough! The man slid a knife towards him, and held the cat down, even as it struggled to get loose.

"Do it, Harry~ Punish it! You'll feel so much better afterwards, I promise," the man told him in that dark, hypnotic voice.

Harry picked up the knife. He hesitated. Something deep inside him told him that if he did this, then something inside him would change forever. That he was about to take a life, even if it was just a cat. But the man edged him on. Coaxing him. Encouraging him. Speaking directly to every feeling that Harry had ever felt. Every desire for revenge. Every need to be the one that held the power for a change. His fear of being bullied, and his anger at being hurt!

Harry raised the knife...

* * *

It felt like a lifetime had gone by. He still remembered the exact moment the light went out of the eyes of the cat. The moment it stopped fighting. Those spasms as it chocked out the last bits of life in it. He had a feeling he would never forget this. He felt terrified...but also powerful. To hold someone's life in your hand like that...he almost shuddered in pleasure at the Dark Delight that welled up in him.

He wanted more.

But he also wanted to throw the knife away and never, ever do it again! He hated how the dead cat looked. Like a lump of flesh. Harry stared at it, unable to tear his eyes away. It felt like a limp of meat. Not even that...it was...indescribable. In a way that nobody whom has not seen the light of life leave another living creature by their own hand could ever understand. Terrifyingly beautiful, and wonderfully ugly at the same time!

"Well done, Harry. Well done."

The voice of the other man seemed to come from far away, but Harry slowly pulled himself together and looked at him. There was such a look of pride on his face that Harry felt pride well up inside himself. He had FINALLY done something RIGHT! Nobody, anywhere, ever, had told him he had done something good, something worth doing. And Harry clung to the flicker of pride in his chest like the greatest treasure and beamed up at the older man as he praised him.

He wanted more!

More praise!

More pride!

More wonderful feelings!

"Now, Harry... I want you to do something for me..." The man pulled out a picture, a drawing, from his pocket. "I want you to draw this picture for me... but first...first, I will give you a gift. A gift for a job well done," He said and smiled, moving his hand to cover Harry's eyes. "Close your eyes, Harry," the man spoke, and Harry eagerly closed his eyes, his mind spinning with possibilities.

He had never received any kind of real gift in his life either. And now this nice man would give it to him! And not only a gift...no... a REWARD! He had earned this himself! And wasn't that a wondrous emotion to feel? So new and warm and just good!

"Now open them," the man told him, and he did, Harry looked around with wonder and amazement.

"I can see!" He nearly shouted out his excitement!

Not even with his glasses had he seen the world like this before! Everything was so clear. Down to the last detail! Even the blood pooling and the dead cat on the table had him stare in fascination at the dizzying beauty of the world.

"Now then, Harry... Will you draw this picture in the cat's blood on the table for me? If you do everything I say, I promise you that you will experience something that will change your whole life~!"

The man spoke with such passion and joy, making Harry feel like the man would be able to take away his pain and problems and make everything better, so he did. It was a difficult figure, the man called it a 'sigil', but he managed. Drawing each line very carefully he looked up and saw the beautiful, nice man smile at him with a mysterious smile and a slight gleam in his eyes.

"Now repeat after me: _'Ayer avage Aloren Asmodeus aken'._ Keep chanting it while focusing on the image."

"Ayer avage Aloren Asmodeus aken. Ayer avage Aloren Asmodeus aken," Harry kept chanting, focusing on the image, like the man told him too.

He focused so much on it that he did not notice the light dimming, and the shark like grin that appeared on the other man's face. Suddenly there was a loud crack. Like lightning had hit something, and suddenly the lights were back on. Harry barely stopped himself from screaming in surprise.

"Good boy, Harry!"

The man laughed a deep, dark, and slightly scary laughter and patted Harry on his shoulder. The first time he had actually touched Harry, he realized. Not even when he held his hand out to help him up had the man actually touched him...he shook his head. The man had been so nice to him, why did it matter that he was a bit eccentric? He looked rich, and he always heard rich people were a bit weird, a bit 'eccentric'. Harry wasn't entirely sure what the word meant, but he had heard it enough to have a good idea.

"Now, Harry... I usually deal with far older boys than you, but you are someone quite interesting to me, yes..."

The man grinned and thought about the power he could feel from the boy, and the delicious dark soul that was trapped inside it... He wanted to taste that, and whomever had originally owned it had now relinquished ownership to its new host. There was enough leeway in the rules to allow that, he thought, and smirked to himself in glee.

"How would you like to make a Pact with me? A deal. One that lets you have all the luxury you have ever wanted. That will grant you power beyond your imagination, and let you get revenge on everyone who has ever wronged you?" the man asked, and Harry felt himself get incredibly exited at the aspect, although a bit suspicious and unsure...it sounded too good to be true. Nothing ever good had ever happened to him, but this man had been so nice to him.

The man noticed he hesitated.

"Would you like to have a Father? Someone to call 'dad'. Someone who'll play catch with you and buy you ice-cream?" as he spoke, Harry's eyes lit up like sparkling stars. It was something he had wanted more than anything in his whole life!

"I can give you that, and more~ If only you make this little deal with me. All I want in return is that you work for me, and, don't worry...dear, Harry..." He stroked the boy's face gently, and Harry revelled in the kind touch, yet another new feeling. "I won't work you nearly as hard as your aunt and uncle. In fact...how would you like to be rid of them for good? I can change them for you, you know...make them never raise their hand in anger. Never yell at you. Never call you 'freak' or 'boy', and to treat you with respect~"

The man enticed Harry and he couldn't stop himself any longer.

"Yes! I do! Please! I...I wanna work for you! I'll do anything!" Harry said, practically jumping out of the chair to hug the older man. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

Harry sobbed into the warm embrace of the not-so-strange stranger. The mere thought of the paradise the man described was enough to make him want to work as hard as his little body could take, if he would only keep it. He promised himself he would serve him with everything he got.

Then a thought occurred to him...

"W-would...would you be my new daddy?" the child asked and looked up at the man with puppy-dog eyes.

This seemed to catch the man off-guard for a second, before he laughed and patted Harry's head.

"Sure, kiddo. I can't say I've ever tried that before, but I imagine it would be fun!"

The man laughed again and allowed Harry to hug him, before he smiled sardonically and pulled a fairly simple contract out of his pocket, which listed down everything he had just said, in a very stylized language that Harry struggled to understand. But he trusted that the man was telling the truth, and if he got everything he had ever wanted, in exchange for running a few errands whenever the man needed, why should he worry too much about it?

"Now, Harry... This here is a special contract. You MUST sign it in your own blood. Remember, once you sign this you will work for me, forever. But, in exchange, I will give you everything you have wished for in the deep darkness of night. Also, I'll be your new... _'daddy'_..." he tasted the word with something between disdain and amusement. " I'll make sure I raise you well, so much so that you'll love your new life."

He smiled deviously down at Harry, before morphing his smile into something far more reassuring and trustworthy. All Harry could see was the honesty and comfort that shone out of those eyes that was so eerily alike to his own... Harry grimaced as he cut the backside of his wrist just deep enough to wrangle out enough blood and used the quill the man had presented to him to sign his name.

The man smiled at him in a way that made Harry feel as if he did the right thing and he felt that strange sensation called pride blossom in his chest once more. He had the strangest notion that the stranger's smile flickered to something slightly more devious, as if he could sense what it was that Harry was feeling, and was laying plans and schemes as for how to best use it. But that was ridiculous, Harry told himself.

Harry smiled up at the man, his new daddy! He grinned widely as it sunk in. Then he remembered he didn't even know his name...

"W-what should I call you?" Harry asked, his voice quaking with uncertainty.

"My name is Asmodeus. But around other people, just call me Sidonay. Or...'daddy'." He forced back a laughter at the notion.

Oh, he had not had this much fun in centuries, maybe even millennia! Asmodeus laughed to himself as Harry beamed up at him.

"Okay, daddy! I'll be the best son ever! I promise! I'll work really, REALLY hard! Promise!" Harry said, nodding in precocious seriousness as he swore to himself that he would never, ever let his new dad down. No matter what!

* * *

When Harry woke up the next day, the sun was already high in the sky. For a second, he panicked. This was not his cupboard! Where was he?! Then it all came back to him and he relaxed back into the creaky, old bed and the moth-eaten blanket before once again feeling the tingles of panic reaching with its creeping tendrils towards him.

How did he get up here? He got out of the, quite frankly, somewhat smelly bed and looked around in the dilapidated decrepit room, and noticed he was somehow up on the second floor of the house. He vaguely remembered creeping into a nice, luxurious bed last night, not this...this...shithole! He was suddenly very happy to have gone to bed with his clothes on. While they were dirty, they were nowhere near as dirty as that bed. Or the floor...he could see the dust dancing in the sunlight, making small spirally pattern in the light.

For some reason...the light no longer reassured and comforted him. How strange. Suddenly he felt a need to find the darkest corner in the house and hide in. Then his eyes widened. What if he had dreamed it all?! What if all of the wonderful things that had happened yesterday was just his imagination! Harry nearly sobbed before he choked out a suffocating yell.

"DAD?! A...ASMODEUS?!" He struggled to remember the correct name, but somehow it came to him with surprising ease, as if it was burned into his heart and rested on the tip of his tongue. The door creaked open, and the room suddenly changed.

"Good morning son."

Asmodeus smiled that reassuring, friendly smile, holding a steaming cup of tea out for Harry to take. The room suddenly gleamed with colours, looking as it might have done in its glory days. He could now see that nothing had changed...not really...it was like someone had coloured the room with magic and made it new. Harry marvelled at the miracle and walked over to touch the bed, before accepting the cup from his new daddy. He drank it slowly, but he still felt thirsty and he wrinkled his nose. He was also hungry. VERY hungry. It was like he had never even eaten yesterday... The nice man with the long red hair sighed and patted Harry's shoulder.

"Yes... Illusions are best had in the darkness of the night. The light of day tends to...dispel them," He told him and waved his hand. The cup vanished, and the room looked as run down and old as ever. Harry watched the change with a morbid fascination, before turning to stare at Asmodeus.

"What ARE you?!" he asked.

His voice was quivering in fear as he only now realized that this was something unnatural and horrifying. Then his thoughts went back to the moment he killed the cat. It was haunting him, fascinating him. He wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad thing. The man smiled at him in a way that made him feel ashamed to question him. This man had been so nice to him, and he was scared of some...some...Harry wasn't sure what to call it.

"Have you ever read the bible, Harry? Don't believe in the bullshit and goodie-goodie propaganda of humans!" He sneered at the mere thought of that disgusting book. "I'm a demon Harry, have you heard of us before? Perhaps on the telly? Or in books?"

Harry shook his head. He wasn't allowed to watch the telly, and all his aunt watched was those boring soap operas and drama shows. And the Dursley's never had any books that wasn't schoolbooks or newspaper lying about. His aunt might have some romance novels lying about, but Harry was never allowed to touch those. Asmodeus smiled. A dangerous smile. It was creeping slowly to his face like the velvet darkness of the night, sharp, like the edge of a knife. Harry shuddered.

"There is a lot of misunderstandings going around about demons. Humans fear everything they can't understand, you have noticed that, haven't you? Of course, you have, such a smart boy as you."

Harry smiled at his father's faith in him being smart, it felt nice and he nodded. He had to think hard, but he remembered those weird 'freakish' things that had happened around him, and how angry and scared it seemed to always make those around him.

"Demons..." He thought about it for a second. "We are the advocates of Free Will. We stir things up! Make life fun and exiting!" He grinned down at Harry. He sat on the bed and patted his lap for Harry to sit. "Come on, and I'll tell you a story." Asmodeus smiled, and Harry tentatively sat down in his lap. Telling himself that the man had never, not even once, done anything to hurt him.

"In the beginning, when the world was created, there was only boredom... Humans were slaves to a despotic god, whom set down rules and laws and made the poor humans follow them. _'Don't do this'_ he said, _'Don't do that'_. And the humans, not knowing anything better, and fearful of losing the easy life they lead as pets in this powerful deity's garden, did everything they were told to do. But then one day, a demon...in the form of a serpent...saw how the humans in their forced ignorance were living such a boring and mediocre life. The serpent, being a strong believer in Free Will, sought to help the humans, to grant them the knowledge they needed to make their own choices. Because without knowledge, there can be no Choices..."

* * *

It took the man quite some time to tell Harry the story, but he was an incredibly good narrator and speaker, and by the end, Harry was entranced. He now understood just how nice demons were...and how cruel and petty this 'god' figure was.

Why did he think he had some kind of right to dictate everyone else?! He reminded Harry of Vernon, with all his rules, and how he refused to let Harry learn that he even had choices!

Harry fumed in anger as Asmodeus laid out all about the laws some powerful humans had decided was right and wrong. And Harry felt himself agreeing more and more.

Who decided what was good and what was evil anyway? Everyone had their own desires and needs. Who had the right to judge that what one person liked was better than what another person liked?

It wasn't RIGHT!

EVERYONE should be free to do whatever they damned well please! If two people's desires collided, then of COURSE it made sense that whomever wanted it more, and whom fought the hardest for it, should get what they wanted!

Harry smiled up to his new daddy and hugged him, loving him more and more for teaching him all these new and wonderful things, and giving him the most amazing, wonderful gift of all.

Free Will!


	2. A New Dawn

"Tell me...son," the man said, still hesitant to use that word, but knowing it would be far more beneficial in the end. "Are you still hungry? Would you want something more... substantial?"

Harry nodded rapidly, he could almost feel his stomach rumble. Not a new feeling for him, but he would really love something to eat right about now.

"Come on then. Let's go into town and I will teach you how to bend these pathetic human sheep to your will."

He smiled down at Harry, making Harry feel like he was…special…someone above everyone else in this small little town of white pickled fences and gossip mongers. And if his newfound Father said so...maybe he was. His Father knew so many wonderful things after all and he claimed Harry had Powers, just like him! That he could make things happen by just focusing his Will! Harry had worked very, very hard for almost an hour and in the end, he managed to make a rock fall off the edge of the table. He had never felt prouder of himself than when his Father praised him, and told him that with practice, he could do even bigger things!

* * *

When they reached town, his father quickly located an ATM machine that had a bench nearby, and a small ally not too far away. Harry was worried that people would see him hanging around a stranger, but Asmodeus quickly reassured him that only Harry could see him. Harry unconsciously stroked the golden, circular pendant of his neckless that was encircled by a much darker, almost black, gold ring and engraved on one side with his father's Sigil...whatever that meant...and a stylized letter A on the other. Denoting to those whom knew, those of importance, whom he belonged to. No lesser demons or creatures would dare touch someone whom belonged to the great King of Demons, whom even tricked the powerful wizard Solomon back in the day. Harry hated the man from the first he heard the story. Forcing a demon to work as a slave and binding them...such an asshole!

Now, however, Asmodeus leaned over the back of the bench, and whispered into Harry's ear, teaching him how to spot a suitable victim. In this case, Harry would be looking for someone whom appeared to be wealthy, and preferably weak minded.

Rich...that one was easy.

Weak minded... Harry promised himself that he would have to work on learning how this whole 'body-language' thing worked, but for now, his father pointed out a perfect victim to him, telling him the tell-tale signs of his potential weak will. The slight shuffling of his feet's, the bent back, the tendency to apologize even when other people bumped into him... Harry smirked. He would make sure he did his father proud. Though he wished he could have practiced beforehand as he walked up to him and started asking him for directions, staring into his eyes with his own shining green eyes, pushing his will and his magic onto this man as best he could.

"Eye-contact was only necessary in the beginning," Asmodeus whispered.

Later, he could do it without. But for now, Harry struggled even with the eye-contact, and it took him almost five minutes to plant the seed of his Will inside his head. But as he sat back down on the bench, feeling just a little exhausted from the effort, he smiled to himself. The man walked over to the ATM and took out everything he was able to take out from his account and walked into the ally.

Harry quickly got up and followed him, put the substantial number of pounds, a large stack of them, into his pockets. For once Harry was grateful that his t-shirt was so large that they covered the fact that his small pockets was bulging with his new ill-gotten gains. He grinned brightly, but with Asmodeus whispering in his ear, he remembered to yet again stare into the eyes of this man, and forcefully wipe his memory of even seeing him away.

He would come to his senses in five more minutes and having no idea why he was in that ally, nor how he had lost his entire credit limit. On his father's prompting, he relieved the man of his credit-card and dropped it in a nearby trash bin. The man would likely just assume someone stole his card and get himself a new one. Nobody would even suspect Harry. The boy in question smiled brightly, and only barely restrained himself from hugging his dad in public. That would have looked suspicious and downright weird, his father had warned him about that.

Asmodeus smiled warmly at Harry and guided him to the nearest pub, where Harry was all too happy to blow some of his newly gained riches on a proper, full breakfast; Tea, black pudding, bacon, toast...the works. Harry had to work hard to not moan in happiness at the taste of so many wonderful flavours, and Asmodeus had to stop him from eating every last bit on the plate, pointing out that he hadn't eaten properly for several days now, it would be bad if he stuffed himself so full that he threw up, or worse; died. Harry looked shocked when Asmodeus told him a story about a prisoner who had starved himself to escape, and how he had subsequently stuffed himself silly on a roasted goat and promptly died. That was, apparently, a thing. A real-life story.

* * *

Harry snuck back into the house after having stayed out until it was dark, well and truly enjoying his day. His new father had insisted that he would have to go back home to his aunt but promised him that there would be quite a few changes around the house within the next few days.

The first change seemed to be that his aunt, while more or less ignoring Harry as per usual, was extremely worried the next day, as Vernon had not come back home from the pub that he usually went to after work. She did, however, receive a text from him around noon, telling her to not worry, and that he wouldn't be home for the weekend, he had something VERY important to do... Petunia couldn't help worrying either way.

Harry was just happy that she seemed to have forgotten about his existence, and that as long as he snuck away early enough, he could spend the whole day outside and not have to worry about housework, or being beaten up by Dudley, or yelled at by the mysteriously absent Vernon. While he had hidden most of the money under a loose floorboard in the cupboard, he brought enough of it with him to comfortably buy himself lunch and dinner, and even a few sweets. Although he wasn't overly found of sweets, never having the chance to develop a taste for them before, he liked dark chocolate in moderate doses.

* * *

"Honey I'm home~" the Voice of uncle Vernon resonated through the house and had Petunia almost running down the stairs. Not only had he been missing for several days now, but he sounded so uncharacteristically...happy.

She flushed with pleasure, however, when she saw him. The very first thing she noticed was that he held out a bucket of red roses to her, first rate from the looks of it. Oh, how long had it been since he did anything so romantic? It had been years and years... She smiled, kissed him, and blushed like a schoolgirl when he promptly grabbed her and pushed her against the wall, kissing her with a passion she that reminded her of her lost youth.

"Oh, Vernon, dear! Not where the neighbours can see us!" She blushed and straightened out the skirt, but her smile showed that she was happier about his actions than she let on.

"My dearest Tuney... I have something we need to talk about. I've had...an epiphany." He smiled and lead her over to the table.

She looked at him and wondered if he had suddenly lost a few pounds…how strange...

"Oh, dear. What have happened to you? You vanished for the whole weekend! I was so worried!" Petunia fussed and blushed at how he looked at her, something about it made her feel like a teenager again. When did her husband become so...passionate?

"Oh, Tuney... I have something...horrible to confess," he said, looking sombre and clasping her hand.

Taking a deep breath as if to steady himself for a big confession. Petunia looked at him, worried about what had her usually so rational husband act so secretive.

"I-I'm an alcoholic, Tuney," he said and looked away in shame. "I didn't want to admit I had a problem but..." He sighed. "It was Harry that helped me see it. He convinced me to get help. Oh, Tuney! I was so angry at him for it! I was absolutely furious! But... I realized he was right. I couldn't stop! And this weekend...I spent this weekend getting sobered up, and I feel SO much better now! And to think I might never have known if it wasn't for that little...nephew...of yours..."

He acted as if he was conflicted about what to feel about Harry now that he had helped him. To be fair, Petunia felt a little conflicted to. That little freak had actually done something right for a change? She looked at the flowers...well…she pursed her lips. It didn't mean anything. He was still a little freak. It wouldn't do any good to show him that she felt grateful. She'd just...ignore him. Yeah, that would be reward enough. No chores for the day.

"Oh, Vernon... That's wonderful!" She said, smiling at her husband.

"Oh, and Tuney... About that little...that little..." he let the sentence hang in the air, as if he didn't know what to call him.

"Tuney, the neighbours are talking!" he said and looked at her seriously as she gasped and clutched her breast in horror.

"What about, pumpkin?" She said, horror written on her face.

"They've seen him work in the yard. They say he's skinny, that we don't feed him. That they never see him at the table. They've seen how Dudley and his friends beat him up... Well, kids will be kids, but the neighbours..." he let the sentence hang in the air like a threat.

"Oh, how horrible!" Petunia asked with a worried expression. Oh, how horrible! Her reputation...

"And then I heard someone talk about calling the child-protective services on us! To think! They might even take Dudley!" He said, outrage in his voice, and Petunias eyes widened in fear.

"Oh, dearest... What do we do?!" Petunia clasped her husband's hands in fear. "And poor Dudders! Oh, how horrible!"

"Don't worry Pet." Vernon stroked her hands comfortingly. "I know how to fix this! We'll fix this!" He smiled reassuringly to her.

"Do you really think so, Vernon?" she said, lips quivering in fear.

"Of course, Pet. Now…what we need to do is to make sure the neighbours don't have anything to complain about. Of course, it means that we have to put up with that...that boy...eating with us, and not doing gardening. Oh, Tuney! What if they see him coking? The oven is by the windows! We can't have that! And what if some guests noticed his 'room'? I think... Dear, precious Pet... I think we'll have to give him Dudders second bedroom. There's no other option. It's just collecting dust anyway. Dudley is a strong boy, he should be outside playing with his friends, not rotting away indoors like a nerd. Yes, that would be the best option," he spoke so surely and passionately.

He looked into her eyes with so much affection, and oh! How she loved that strong man that took control of everything and knew just what to do. Whatever would she do without him?

"Oh, of course, dear. You're right. You're always right. But shouldn't the little freak pay his way in this world? All that extra food...and no work..." she frowned.

"Oh, don't worry about that Pet. I have a great idea! I mean... If he HAS to be a freak...we can't change that, hell knows we tried. So why not make it work for us? Haven't you always thought it was unfair that your freak sister married rich and never gave us a dime? Don't you want to be wealthy, and live in a nice mansion, and have servants? Oh, Tuney! You can even have all those clothes and beauty treatments that you keep talking about, wouldn't that be nice?!" he told her, smiling from ear to ear.

Petunia lapped up his every word, lost in her dreams and desires. Oh, how amazing wouldn't it be to be rich? And how the neighbours would envy them! They laughed now, but if they could do this...if Vernon was right...Of course he was right, he was always right! Didn't he just solve their problem with the neighbours? Petunia smiled and kissed her husband.

"Oh, of course dear! I will leave everything to you and go clean up this mess! You talk to the boy. Make him understand how important it is that he earns his keep! Oh, dearest Verny~ You always come true for this family!" Petunia said, kissing his again, before she turned away to find the cleaning products.

She was so excited! And as she ran off, she never saw the nasty, shark like smile that stretched across Vernon's face like a razor. And she was entirely too busy dreaming to notice the very subtle smell of sulphur that now seemed to follow her husband, as he stood up, and walked over to the closet that held their nephew.

"Boy, get out of there. Take your stuff with you, you're getting a new room!"

* * *

Vernon was now the perfect husband, and the perfect father. When he was not out on the lawn, playing improvised football with his son and nephew, he was sitting down with Harry and teaching him all manners of science and making sure he held the best grades in his year...not that it was hard, seeing as he had only just started school, but his new dad wanted him to be well ahead of his year. So, he sent Dudley off to the movies with money enough for snacks and anything else he wanted, which made him happy. Dudley was especially happy that his dad didn't force him to do all that boring reading and shit that he forced Harry to learn. Dudley felt like he dodged a bullet on that!

Harry could not forget the shock he had felt when his usually mean uncle came up to him and showed him his new room, acting all nice and familiar. It wasn't until they were inside, and he closed the door and explained the concept of using a human body as a 'meat suit', as a form of disguise, that Harry realized that this was not uncle Vernon at all, it was his new daddy! Harry laughed with joy and hugged the...still rather overweight man, with some discomfort. Harry disliked how he still looked like his uncle, but Asmodeus promised him that he would change that as soon as he was able to do so without raising suspicion.

His first action was to shave off that horrible moustache he had going. His next action was to colour his hair reddish-brown and grow it out just enough to change his entire hairdo. All the while, he had imposed upon the family the need to be healthy. Which, of course, lead to a complete change in their diet plan. He also made sure to hire a personal chef to cook all their meals, which revealed Harry from ever having to cook again. Something the boy loved, as he watched more and more of his time free up.

When Vernon was promoted to C.E.O. at his company, he promptly hired a maid to drop by once a week and clean. He also bought himself a whole new set of clothes, shopping at places like Brooks Brothers, Ralph Lauren, and occasionally, for special occasions, at Anderson & Sheppard. It didn't even take a year before the old, obese, common looking Vernon looked lean and slightly muscular, with style and taste, and a tint of red in his normally brown hair, something that Harry was especially happy with.

Of course, Petunia experience a similar change, just not quite so drastically.

"I have to dress up, now that I'm a C.E.O.," he told her, right before presenting her with a gift card at one of the more upscale stores in town. "You have to look your best, being married to such an important man," he said, and Petunia kissed him and practically ran off to get her best friend and make a day trip to the mall.

With the help and guidance of her husband, and a personal shopper he hired for her with very specific instructions, she now looked ten years younger, dressed like a preppy mother in clothes every bit as tastefulness and expensive as her husband. She even, at Vernon's comment, let her hair grown out and hired a make-up specialist to help 'pick her colours' and teach her how to look her best.

There was a number of beauty treatments and experimental drugs involved as well, ensuring that she was very soon looking prettier than she had ever done in her life. Of course, the fact that she was no longer a miserable, stuck-up bitch certainly also helped. Her hair was still a very dark brown though, but Vernon had convinced her that curls was so very 80's. She had gotten it permanently straightened, which improved her looks a lot, as well as made her look a lot younger.

Vernon...or rather Asmodeus...was secretly extremely relieved at this, considering that he had to be intimate with her. Especially because he used his rather impressive skills as the Lord of Lust to sate her desires so much that she became addicted to and dependent upon the sweet, slick, heights of pleasure and passion that he provided to her in the devilishly intimate nightly deep pleasures. So much, that if she mistreated Harry in any way, he only had to withhold his talents, and she would correct her behaviour immediately, doing anything in her power to please her husband.

It certainly did help her training that he also rewarded her in many romantic, and often expensive ways, whenever she treated Harry with kindness and care. Between the subtle manipulation of Asmodeus, and the childish charm and opulent gifts of her nephew, she grew to love Harry as if he was her own. Nothing could make her love anyone more than Dudley though, but Harry was a very close second.

It had been an uphill fight to get Dudley to accept their new diet-plan... he just plain hated healthy food... but it was slowly getting better.

Besides oh, how wonderfully envious the neighbours were! Petunia had never been happier in her life! Then if her husband acted a bit strange and out of character...well... she chalked it up to his alcoholism and refused to listen. Her life had never been better.

* * *

Harry was happy.

For the first time in his young life he felt the happiness that came from having something he could call a family, someone who cared about him. That part of him that was born from desperation and misery that made him long for his real parents, or even the slightest hint of friendliness slowly evaporated and disappeared. Replaced by his new father, and by a family that very slowly begun to include him inn it.

Dudley was torn between anger at being pushed aside by his dad, and joy over the fact that he now had all the toys and money he wanted and could buy whatever he wanted, much to the envy of his friends. But the more money he spent on his friends, the more friends he seemed to have, as Dudley had not yet experienced just how shallow friendships built on bribes are, and was consequentially very happy about this.

"Harry, can you tell me what the 7 perfect sins are?" Asmodeus had been working hard on teaching Harry all the principles of being a servant of Hell. He would not have an Agent that did not fully understand and live by the same Values and Aesthetics as he did himself.

"Of course! It is Lust, Greed, Gluttony, Pride, Sloth, Wrath aaand...um...Envy!" Harry replied, looking proudly up at his dad.

"Good boy!" Asmodeus said and ruffled his hair, much to Harry's pleasure. "Now... Tell me 3 ways you can use each of them to tempt a human to do your bidding."

Asmodeus continued to lecture and test his young student, surprised at himself over enjoying this as much as he did. But then, he HAD been rather bored. Hell was a barren wasteland, and no matter how interesting, not to mention dangerous, the intrigues at the Court there were, ruling over several miles of volcanic soil, a few lakes of fire and the incessant wailing of tormented souls got extremely tedious in the long run.

Asmodeus also made sure to teach Harry about just how unimportant blood and genes was, using how his aunt and uncle had treated him as examples of just how little such mortal nonsense meant. Harry nodded, and, after some thought, questions and explanations, he found himself agreeing with his new father. Why should he care about people he had never met? Or those who had been cruel to him? They might share DNA, but preciously little else. Asmodeus smirked smugly while Harry's back was turned. The boy was incredibly easy to mould into the perfect servant, attached and devoted to only him.

Time passed as they all settled into this new lifestyle and Harry's knowledge grew. With it came an understanding that everyone, even his father, had underlying motives behind everything they did. Of course, by that time, Harry was already incredibly devoted to his father and to his father's Work, but he no longer trusted him blindly. He DID, however, obey him, if he ever told Harry to do something. But he also understood that his daddy did, in fact, love him. Contrary to popular belief, demons are quite capable of love. They just don't prioritize it. Certainly not by putting anyone else's needs above their own. But it still made Harry even more devoted to his original promise of never ever letting his father down. For all he agreed with his father's views and values, he was still a human child.

* * *

And then came the day when Vernon told her about their – read: his – plans to move them into a better home.

"Oh, but dear…we've lived here our entire life. Do we have the money for this?" Petunia looked at her husband with a worried look on her face.

"Don't worry, Pet. We have more than enough money. I own Grunnings now, remember? And the business is getting better and better, all thanks to our little Harry here!" He smiled down at his nephew...or son. Petunia couldn't help but smile either.

"And don't you think we should move away from this place? It holds so many horrible memories. Why, every time I walk into that sitting-room I see the...the..." His voice faded out in pain.

Petunias lip quivered, and tears welled up in her eyes. Oh, her precious Dudders! She could still hear him screaming, see how that...HORRIBLE creature ripped, and bit and tore... She shook her head and forced herself to focus on Harry. He might not be Dudley, but he was all they had now. Focus on that. Don't think about the past. The past was too painful.

"You're right honey. We HAVE to move! Oh, I wish they would have shot that horrid woman along with her dog!" Petunia raged against Marge. "I know she's your sister, but if it wasn't for her..." Petunia sobbed and Vernon walked over to hug her.

The trauma of losing her only son had taken its toll on her. The wound was still fresh.

It had happened barely a year after Vernon overcame his alcoholism. Everything was going so wonderfully in her life, and then that fateful night when Vernon's sister Margaret visited them...

Oh, how she wished she had never let that woman set a foot in her house! How she wished she had certainly not let her bring her dog! Oh, that horrible mutt!

She remembered how they had allowed her to set it on Harry, and she wondered if that had made it get a taste for human flesh. Petunia still had nightmares about it. But in her dreams, it was some kind of mutant freak dog, and Marge just laughed and laughed as it tore through her precious, dearly loved son. She forced her mind away from it. The doctor and psychiatrists all said that it was important to move on with her life. They kept telling her to stop clinging to the mementos of her son and let him go. He was dead, she had to let go and focus on the things she still had.

"You're right of course dear. It's just so hard..." She sobbed and felt grateful for her nephew hugging her and trying to comfort her.

Petunia didn't know what she would do without him. He wasn't her precious Dudders, but...if she closed her eyes...she could pretend. It was a child, she could pretend it was her son. That her son was still alive, somehow, in Harry. She'd even caught herself in calling him 'Dudders' now and then. Harry didn't seem to mind, he seemed to understand what she needed, and she was grateful for that. She never saw the devious smirk they both shared behind her back.

"I have something to take our mind of things. You know how the doctor told you to take some time off. Naturally, we won't be going to that horrid clinic of hers, but I figured we could celebrate our move with a Cruise. Just think about it Pet! You can be pampered and spoiled for a whole week, while we tour Europe!" he smiled and hugged her. "Rome! Barcelona! Venice! I booked us first class, all expenses covered!" He held the tickets out and Petunia grabbed them and gasped in pleasure.

"Oh, honey, that's amazing!"

The sadness had vanished in the face of such pleasures, and she was already planning what clothes to buy, and OH how jealous the neighbors would be! She kissed her husband and ran off to call them up and invite them for tea, so she could tell the good news! Oh, how wonderful her life had become after they turned that freak nephew into a veritable gold mine!

Through it all, Harry simply smiled in the background, feeling pleased with himself.

* * *

You see...over the years, young Harry had gotten VERY good with his mind control spells and it is a simple fact of life that the human mind is far more complex and harder to control than that of a canine. Harry smiled fondly at the memory. Oh, how he loathed his cousin! His aunt and uncle might have forced him to cut down on the bullying, but Harry did not forget, and he most certainly did not forgive. His father had taught him that. And with his father's word whispering in the back of his mind, making that vile dog attack his cousin and maul him to death taught him just how wonderful revenge could be.

He could still hear the sobs of aunt Marge as the Police barged in the door and shot the dog, and the wailing of his aunt as she followed him into the ambulance. She was entirely too upset and worried about her son to even notice the proud smile her husband...or rather, the meat suit that used to be her husband, but that was now worn by something quite far from being human, smiled proudly down at Harry.

 _'Always seek revenge. Never let any slight go unpunished.'_ Such was the first lesson his father had taught him, and Harry remembered it well.

Oh, the rest of them would pay as well!

To be fair, Vernon had already been paying for it – forced to watch someone else sleep with his wife, play with his son, destroying everything he had worked so hard to obtain and changing his family into something he hardly even recognized – all the while frozen inside a body that was no longer under his control. All he could do was to watch, and scream. Deep, deep in his own mind Vernon was screaming. First in rage. Then in fear. Then in bitter regret and agony as he watched his whole life being taken away and replaced with filth and abomination.

As for his aunt...well... Revenge is a dish best served cold.


	3. The Road to Hell

Happy Halloween~

* * *

Piers Polkiss was running. His small feet tapped the street, his heart beating in his ears.

It was real! The same fucking creature that had been haunting his dreams for days was real! He cussed and cursed under his breath.

Piers had tried to talk to people about it, he had! But they just laughed and said he'd been playing Dark Days on VR too much. And...he had, he supposed. Fucking horror game! Fucking dad who didn't care!

But the bloody creature that was somehow chasing him looked exactly, exactly like...like that thing! From the game!

It made him second-guess himself. Was he mad? Had he gone mad? What was it they said about too much video-games being a bad thing again? Was it true?!

But now... Now it was here. It was here! With him! And it wasn't a game. It wasn't a fucking dream! This... was the cold. harsh. reality!

He had to hide. That was the only way! Just like in the game.

Oh, god... What if it didn't work?! This wasn't a fucking game after all, it wasn't a bloody fucking game!

Thud. Thud. Thud. The slow sound of heavy footsteps shook the ground and resounded in his ears.

"Oh, please no. Please don't let it find me. Please, please, please!" Piers muttered under his breath from the bush that he was hiding behind, hands over his ears to shut out the horrible thudding of the creatures feet that shook the ground, coming ever closer. The footsteps came closer.

"Oh, god, no! No-no-no!" He whimpered, tears streaming down his face.

"Come out, come out where-ever you are~" A childish voice rung out, echoing in his ears.

"It's time for Piers-hunting~" the haunting voice sung out, and Piers started sobbing.

Was this how Dudley's freak cousin felt when they were hunting him?

He knew he shouldn't have gone along with some of the shit that Dudley did, but dammit! They were just having a little fun, that's all! Who the fuck cared about that freak anyway? Non of the grownups did!

It made Dudley happy, and he wanted Dudley to be proud of him! Be proud of his like his old Pop never was, bloody wanker.

Nobody cared if his damned Pop beat him when he got drunk enough, so why the fuck should that little freak get away with enjoying his life when HE never was allowed too?!

How the fuck could he know that the bloody wanker... Harry some-shit-or-other...was some sort of freaking magician?! Or found a cursed hotel! What. the fuck. ever!

He cursed Dudley and his own life choices, as the creature that looked like something out of a creepy horror show stalked ever closer. Always just out of sight.

He prayed, prayed-prayed-Prayed that the creature wouldn't find him! Oh god, no. No-no-please-mommy! No. No. No!

"Peak-a-boo...I...see...YOU~!" The eerie childish voice said and Piers looked up and let out a heart-wrenching scream.

* * *

"That was a fun game dad!" Harry grinned excitedly at his dad, before he stepped over to piers and poked at him with a stick he had picked up only moments before.

Pierce was lying on the ground, completely still, his face twisted into a contortion of horror. He didn't move, no matter how much Harry poked him.

"Good job, son." Asmodeus smiled proudly down at his son. He didn't think he had it in him to scare the kid to death -literally- but apparently he was wrong.

He wondered if that kid might have had some kind of heart disease, or if it was just that the body succumbed to the illusion of being killed, to the point that the psychosomatic damage became reality. Either way, it worked out fine.

"He's not moving, dad. Hey, Pierce! Wake up!" Harry kicked him in the ribs, with a confused look on his face and Asmodeus sighed heavily.

He supposed he had to explain his...son...a few things about human life and it's futility. In retrospect he supposed he should have made sure that Harry watched movies that had a bit more permanent deaths in them than Tom & Jerry... And not let him think the thing he did to the cat was a dream.

* * *

In a quaint, magical castle on the other side of the continent, Dumbledore was sitting in his brightly lit office.

Surrounded by his wonderful goo-gads and thingamajigs, he felt in a contemplative mood.

When Arabella had told him about a child in Harry's neighborhood that had somehow died of heart-failure, his first thought went to the killing curse. He had been quite relieved when he had discovered that there was no trace of magic about him, and in all appearances, it was... well... whatever it was, it was muggle.

He shook his head sadly at the thought of a young child dying, but muggles were such fragile creatures. Prone to so many different diseases, unlike wizards.

Such tragedies always reminded him of the darker side of life, and of things he'd rather not think about. Albus blew a gentle breath at his tea and smiled sadly at his beloved pet and long time companion.

"Now, now, Fawkes. Don't give me that look." his voice weary with age and responsibilities..

"You know as well as I do that it was the best decision for everyone involved, Fawks." he gently stroked the red, downy feathers of his phoenix, as his thoughts turned to the recent events.

McGonnigal had been there yet again today, to ask him about Harry. And he had, as always, reassured her everything was under control, and the boy was was fine.

He was making sure someone watched over him. The muggles were treating him as well as could be expected. There really was nothing to worry about.

Granted, Mrs. Figgs was getting on it years, and nearly blind, but she had a good heart and would not allow a small child to suffer. She even babysat him from time to time.

Arabella was one of the only wizards he knew that could move about in the muggle world without attracting attention. And the fewer people that knew where the boy lived, the better.

He did feel a little bad about leaving young Harry with those unpleasant muggles. But it was all for the greater good.

He always knew little Harry would have a hard life, and wizards would either coddle him or cause him to be biased. And that was a very bad attitude for a hero to have. He would grow up strong with the Dursley's. And it would give Petunia the chance for redemption she so sorely needed. It would all be for the best, he just had to believe in that.

But they didn't abuse him! He would have removed the boy from their care instantly if they did. He wasn't a cruel man! If he had seen any signs of that, he would have been forced to take action. But he had not seen any real proof of that.

Dumbledore sipped his tea to calm his nerves. He would have checked up on him himself of course, but somehow something always seemed to get in the way. He was...busy. Yes, always so busy. Far too busy to check on a child who hadn't even begun school yet!

He leaned back in his chair and smiled as he petted his beloved Phoenix. Perhaps he should find the old gramophone player. Some music would surely sooth his nerves.

* * *

Petunia was quietly humming to herself as she prepared afternoon tea. Each one of the professionally prepared pastries, scones and sandwiches were carefully taken out of the box and arranged in a pleasing and decorative way on her new tree tiered serving stand, coated in real silver. Perfect!

When she smiled like this, in a certain light, one could truly see that she was the sister of the beautiful Lily Evans. Something unthinkable until just recently.

She smiled as she stroked her well-manicured fingers down the soft fabric of her authentic Dolce & Gabbana floral dress. Vernon had recently gotten yet another promotion, and with it, a higher paycheck. What a lucky woman she was, to be married to such a handsome, successful man!

A little less than a year ago she had been lamenting the expenses and freakishness of her nephew. And her husband's drinking problems had come as quite a shock to her as well. If anyone had told her how dramatically things would have changed back then, she would have laughed at them. But...not to their face of course.

And then, just last month -right after the unfortunate death of that kid, how terrible- her dear husband had given her some of the most wonderful pills!

Now... Petunia Dursley would normally never had even tried such a thing.

Pills that made you young and beautiful? The telly always warned her against trusting such nonsense. It never worked! Except...

She touched her face and smiled at her own window reflection. She could see the years vanishing from her face. And beauty, like that which she had always envied in her sister, were so close she could almost taste it!

No more horrid Botox and painful Dermapen treatments. Things that had to be repeated over and over, and that was just never quite good enough. No more needles and liquid diets! Only these wonderful, red pills. Like the color of blood...

Honestly, the color did creep her out. And they had this unpleasant metallic taste to them, but they worked!

Was she even this beautiful in her youth? She leaned closer to the window. She swore her face was becoming prettier by the day! Her heart swelled with pride and joy.

She moved to peer in the door of the old guestroom, which was now Vernon's office. She was curious about what her husband and nephew was up to, having barely seen either of them this day.

Vernon was currently looking over her nephews shoulder and pointing at their brand new pc screen. The very latest and best, naturally.

It had cost them a small fortune, but it was worth every penny! She smiled blissfully as she remembered her best friends envious looks.

She snuck even closer, curious about what they were talking about this time.

"No, son. You're not ready to watch Hellraiser yet. Maybe when you're a little older. Try Spawn instead. That one's based of a comic book."

"But daaaad..." he whined. She could hear his small feet kicking the chair in a way that reminded her of her own beloved Duddikins. It was almost cute.

"How about this; If you study hard, and show good progress in your work, I'll let you watch Wishmaster next week, okay?"

"Okay dad..." Harry was still clearly pouting, but he seemed mollified by the suggestion of...whatever it was.

Maybe it had a scene in it like the scary cave in Aladdin, Harry was such a strange kid.

Dudley had wet his bed for a week after watching that one. But she supposed the children weren't in kindergarten anymore.

The childish laughter ringing from the room at whatever Vernon had said was really quite hearwarming. Perhaps there was hope for the brat yet. Vernon clearly knew what he was doing.

For some reason Harry had recently developed an obsession with horror movies. And Petunia was very happy to see that her husband guided him to watch something more child appropriate.

Not that she knew what this...Spawn movie was, but comic books were definitely a child-friendly thing... Right?*

"Mooooom! We're out of biscuits again!" Dudley's voice rang from the kitchen, and Petunia hurried down to take care of her precious little Diddikins.

* * *

Harry furrowed his brows as he read his new book yet again. Why did his aunt say that it was bad to lie, when she was lying to her friends all the time? Why was murder so bad, but everyone loved watching it on telly?

He smiled down at his book. His father had patiently explained everything about human hypocrisy and handed him The Satanic Bible by an Anton Szandor LaVey. Harry instantly fell in love with it.

Somehow it felt very reassuring to finally have clear rules to follow! At least if he was punished now, he knew what he had done wrong!

Of course, his father kept supplementing them with his own advice. Like It is only bad if you get caught. Or What people doesn't know can't hurt them.

He smiled down at the page he had read a thousand times already.

Satan represents indulgence, instead of abstinence!

Satan represents vital existence, instead of spiritual pipe dreams!

Satan represents undefiled wisdom, instead of hypocritical self-deceit!

Satan represents kindness to those who deserve it, instead of love wasted on ingrates!

Satan represents vengeance, instead of turning the other cheek!

Satan represents responsibility to the responsible, instead of concern for psychic vampires!

Satan represents man as just another animal, sometimes better, more often worse than those that walk on all-fours, who, because of his "divine spiritual and intellectual development," has become the most vicious animal of all!

Satan represents all of the so-called sins, as they all lead to physical, mental, or emotional gratification!

Satan has been the best friend the church has ever had, as he has kept it in business all these years.

He finally had something more substantial to live by than It's all your fault, Freak! Why? Cuz you're a freak! Now shut up and do the dishes! You should have died with your parents!

He also like The Book of the Law by Aleister Crowley. The guy looked, like, super-scary - but it sounded like a good rule to follow to do whatever you want to do...

Although his daddy had told him that that wasn't exactly what he meant, then sighed and said maybe he should wait with that too. And muttered something annoyed about Harry being too young for some Marquis named Sayd or Saadh... Sade?

Which naturally lead to him trying to borrow it from the library. The keyword is trying.

Apparently the librarian did not like the thought of an elementary school kid reading things that were deemed inappropriate even for adults.

She had refused to let him borrow the one book they did have by him. Which of course had lead him to promptly curse her, because, damnit! He wanted that book! And he was not THAT young!

He glared at her glassy eyes as she checked the books out on her own card and wondered if he should make her go jump off a bridge when she was done. It would serve her right! Bloody condescending cunt!

Not that he was entirely sure what the word meant, but he'd watched enough grown-up shows on the telly by now to figure out it fit her, going by the way the woman in that show used it at least. Maybe he should check out a dictionary while he was here...

* * *

Petunia smiled as she made a small twirl in her new dress, before hurriedly brushing herself down and blushing. Acting like some flushing teenager like that! What would people think if they saw her?!

But she felt like she was a young girl again, after that wonderful date she just had with her husband.

It was too bad that he had to cut their date short. But he was clearly too important at work for them to manage without him. She flushed in pride at being the wife of such a handsome, important man as Vernon.

Her husband had really shaped up the last few months. Why, she had never thought anyone could loose weight quite so fast as he had. And the hint of muscle toning he had gotten... She felt a hot all over.

It was embarrassing how she was behaving, it really was. But Vernon had somehow become even more handsome than when she first began dating him, back when he was was the champion of his College's Cricket team. She had always known he would go far.

Oh, my! What a darling bracelet that was, Petunia thought, peering into the store window. It was simple and gilded, but with stones that could very easily be mistaken for real diamonds. Well... She simply had have it!

Petunia fumbled through her purse to see how much money she had in her wallet, when she came upon something strange.

A pocket-book? How odd... She hardly ever read, unless it was for her book club. And they had certainly never read anything so... pink! The bright neon color of the cover gloved at her, and it was the strangest symbol of an upside-down star with a stylized goat's head inside it on the cover. No... This was certainly not any of her own books! However had it ended up in her purse?

"The Satanic Witch?" she mumbled, reading the title of it out loud. Oh, what bloody nonsense was this?! And wasn't satanists supposed to be all black and depressive? What a strange book.

Just then, the alarm on her phone went off and she quickly placed the book back in her bag. She could worry about what surely was a prank some teen must have played on her later. She really had to catch the buss before it left, or she would be stuck here for a whole hour.

Really... This restaurant was certainly nice, but it was terribly far away from all forms of public transportation. One would almost have thought Vernon had brought her there on purpose, if it wasn't for the fact that her sweet, sweet hubby would never do such a thing.

Well, that, and they had come by car. It was hardly his fault that he had been called away for work. And he had to take the car. She understood that. But it did't mean she enjoyed waiting for such plebeian transportation as the buss.

Sitting down at the bench, she looked at her watch. 5 minutes. That wasn't too bad. At least she was sure it would come soon.

Ten minutes later, she checked her watch again. Where was that buss? This was getting terribly boring. She sighed. Should have brought a book.

Another five minutes, and Petunia decided that she might as well start reading the book she did have. Even if it had been place there as a prank. It was surely better than to worry about what kind of delinquent had placed a gum on the signpost for the buss, or writing a shopping list in her head.

Clothes? How to seduce the man you wanted? This was satanism?! ...Perhaps satanism wasn't as scary as media would have them believe after all...

* * *

"...and that is why he didn't get up." Asmodeus looked down at his vassal.

"So it was like the cat? That wasn't a dream?!" Harry said with a frown on his face. "But I didn't do anything. We were just playing..." he curled up on the chair, looking vaguely regretful, which made the demon beside him annoyed.

"There's nothing wrong with killing someone who has hurt you. Taking revenge is the most natural thing in the world." he assured the kid.

"But... Isn't killing...wrong?" Harry asked, slightly confused. The telly said it was wrong, and those fantasy books.

"It's a lie the weak humans tell the strong ones, to keep them from every realise their full potential. It's the same as when your aunt and uncle told you there is no such thing as magic, because they were scared you'd realise how strong you were." Asmodeus reassured him, patting his shoulder for greater effect.

Harry blushed. Was he going to believe made-up stories and make-believe telly?

"And think of the army. It's an honor to be a soldier and kill people who are your enemy. Remember that movie on telly that honored all those war-veterans?" he pushed further, placing his arm around the boy's shoulder.

"But that's..." Harry's weak protest died on his lips. Was it really different? His little brow furrowed in thought. They killed people. And he knew that the people who told them to kill didn't always have any kind of nice intention. And the greedy americans who killed people just to get their oil and such was really super-proud of the soldiers that killed even innocent people! The telly had told him so again and again! He let out a small gasp of realization.

"But... why do they say...?" but he knew...didn't he? His daddy had told him time and time again.

They were scared of people who were strong enough to kill. And maybe they weren't scared of the soldiers, because they obeyed their leader blindly, and everyone trusted the leaders. Like with Hitler!*

He didn't know it yet, but a small part of his child-like innocence died that day. All Harry felt was a profound sadness, and the very first tendrils of a creeping bitterness, as he suddenly realized just how horrible and complicated life was.

"Come with me." Asmodeus said, smiling a deceptive gentle smile down at the small child.

"Okay." Harry said, torn from his contemplation. "Where are we going?"

"I think it's about time we visit one of Pierce's friends. He's currently hiding out behind the school, to wait for the shy girl from your class to pass by on her way to her piano lessons. When she comes there, he intends to beat her up and steal the money her mother has given her to buy her grandma's medicine." he urged, painting the most terrible picture he could for the small child.

Harry didn't disappoint him. He let out a small gasp of horror, remembering how the gang would always take away everything he had...the few times he had anything to take. And they always, always beat him up. And she was just a little girl. A whole year younger than him!

Harry never questioned the story, or any of it's clearly logical flaws. Asmodeus wondered how long that innocent naivety would last.

"We have to stop him!" Harry said, rushing towards the door.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Asmodeus smiled at the furrowing of the child's brows. He gently guided him towards the kitchen and handed him one of Petunia's sharp cooking knives.

"Be careful to not cut yourself."

"But..." Harry bit his lip uncertainly.

"How else were you intending to stop him?" the demon urged. "He is bigger than you. Stronger than you. And nobody would believe you if you told them. You've tried that before, remember?"

And he did remember. The anger welling back up in him as he recalled all those times he had tried to tell the adults, to have them help him, protect him. And it never worked. Adults just didn't listen to children. Or at least, not to him.

His eyes shifted to his daddy. Nobody but his daddy at least. He nodded decisively and hid the knife in the inner pocket of his jacket. He knew from his movies that the killers always needed to hide their intentions until the last moment. It was very important. And he didn't want to let his daddy down.

"Will you...?" he bit his lip and admonished himself for being so relying on his dad. How could he ever make his daddy proud, if he couldn't even save a girl without needing his daddy's help?!

"It's okay son. I believe in you." he smiled and placed his hands on Harry's small shoulders, and fatherly kissed his brow.

"Remember the Pact." he said, and gently touched the mark on the boy's skin. "I will be with you in spirit, if not in the flesh. I will always guide you, no matter how far away you are."

"Thank you." Harry beamed up at his daddy, gratitude glittering in his eyes, before a hard look overtook it, and he took a deep breath. He could do this! He wouldn't let his daddy down! No matter what, he wouldn't let his daddy down!

"Remember, Harry... Slice, don't stab."

* * *

Petunia looked in the hallway mirror, adjusting her hair and pushing her cheeks up. Maybe the book was right? Men were, after all, very sexual creatures, she had her own mother preach that to her more than once.

What if she wasn't good enough for Vernon?

Oh, she was married to him, and he had never so much as looked at any other woman before. Well, maybe looked. But not for long. And he had never been unfaithful to her.

But, whispered a small little voice in her head, things are different now. HE is different.

And it was true. Even when she first met him he had not looked this good. And she was younger then. Prettier. And even with the pills she was now taking, her body still didn't look as good as she wanted it too, even if her face was getting prettier ever day.

Over time he had grown fat and lazy. Was it the alcoholism? Or was it because he no longer played sports? Whatever the cause, he had lost his once good looks at the same rate that she had. Perhaps even more so. But she still loved him. Then again... Women didn't care as much for looks as men did. That's what all her magazines said. Even her friends agreed with that. Men were beasts, deep down.

And now her own man had turned into a _very_ sexy beast. She had noticed how all her friends stared at him. And flirted! Shamelessly! Her cheeks burned in outrage at their behavior.

She had then been happy he did not seem to fall for their vile tricks, but for how long? They were all as old as she was, after all. And only a few of them had retained any of their former beauty.

But what if he met someone else, someone young and pretty? A tremor of fear rushed through her body and chilled her to the core. Would he be tempted then? Would he hate being bound to a wife that looked so... so... old!

She quickly picked up the book from the drawer she had hidden it it.

It wouldn't hurt to get some new clothes, she supposed. She wondered where on that clock her dearest Verny was. Was he a 12'o Clock personality? Six months ago, she would have said no, but now... Dominant...checked. Wore alot of blacks and reds...checked. The further she read, the more certain she became. He was clearly a 12'o clock!

Her focus shifted to her own body, and she felt a blush rising in her cheeks. She cupped her breasts. So small. Barely even a B-cup, if that. And how they had stretched over the years, and one birth... She shuddered and shifted to her face.

Wrinkles! She thought with disgust. And her whole face was on the verge of sagging! She nearly started sobbing.

Her whole body looked more like one of those intellectual 4'o clock types! And yet she didn't read much, and her clothes were dressed in the most fashionable, bright colors...or browns. Not at all fitting her type! Much less the perfect 6'o Clock she needed to be!

She grabbed her bag with a determined last look in the mirror. She needed pastels! And shorter skirts and some stay-ups instead of her trusty, brown pantyhose! Maybe some heels? Her own were a bit...short.

She poked at her hips, wondering if maybe there was some kind of skirt that could make them seem wider... and maybe a padded bra.

Oh, how surprised her husband would be! And maybe...just maybe...she would try one of those 'Rituals' in the book.

She knew she didn't have any magic. But no matter how much she had tried, successfully she thought up until now, to suppress those dreams of being like her perfect sister... the dream was not completely dead yet.

It wouldn't hurt to try at least. The worst that could happen was that nothing happened. She pretty much expected that anyway. Still... Whatever had even the slightest chance of making her prettier for her husband, she would try it. No matter how crazy!

* * *

Asmodeus watched as his latest victim and pawn rushed out the door, and he smiled. The book had been a very good choice. She seemed to be on the right path now, that slippery slope which he so enjoyed pushing susceptible humans even further down.

Ensuring that the buss she was intending to take ended up derailing, accidentally killing an old lady and nearly her dog, as well as hurting a large number of people, well... that had been a bonus. As well as a stroke of genius.

Buss-drivers were always so easy to tempt. They had such an ungratifying job that sipping a bit of brew on the job never seemed all that bad... even if he had resisted all the way until his agent had pulled down his pants. She had been a good choice for the job herself, the completely slut that she was, like most his agents.

All in all, it had hardly cost any effort to set up. And now that his wife was gone, it was time to check on his latest investment; his 'son'.

* * *

Harry stared at the body before him, feeling numb, as the reality of the situation sunk in. Blood. Blood everywhere. He almost wished he had stabbed him, even if it would have cut his own hands too.

He still remembered the sickening sound as he slashed at the boy's throat. The shock in his eyes. The attempt to scream that turned into a horrible gurgling. It was not a pretty death.

He turned around and saw his dad, smiling at him. Kneeling down, he opened his arms and held them out for Harry to run into, before he burst out crying. Deep, heavy sobs into his fathers impeccable, casual Armani outfit.

"You did good, son. You did good." he smiled and stroked the child's hair gently, hugging him close with the other hand.

Harry's sobs slowly turned quiet, as the overpowering emotions crashed and collided inside him.

He felt dirty, but that might just be the blood. He felt like he had done something horrible, but it had been so easy. It had been too easy. And yet, his daddy told him he did well. And he felt a pride and happiness that he hadn't let his daddy down. That he'd done good.

He'd never had anyone that would praise him before, and the feeling of pride was intoxicating. Just as much as the feeling of what he just had done was nauseating.

Was it wrong? It felt wrong. But... His daddy said it was right. And... he had saved that girl! That was good! ...right? Right! It was good! It was good! He nodded to himself as he dried his eyes, before peering tentative up at his father's face.

The pride and joy that shone from the demon's face as he noticed his vassal rising his head to look at him had the little boy blown away with awe.

He felt loved! He felt Pride! And he felt that his daddy would never have loved him so much if he hadn't killed that man. And the girl would be happy too... Not that he could tell her, but she would have been happy, he was sure! She would!

Then a though hit him and he scuttled back from his daddy.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I din't mean to make your clothes dirty!" Harry said, his eyes wide. He knew how important it was for his daddy to look good. 'Appearance is nine tenths of the law" he always said. And his own, new, nice clothes...

"What are you talking about?" his father smiled at him, and Harry stared at his fathers pristine, clean clothes, before looking down on himself and his own.

Not a spec of blood. Not anywhere! How was this possible! The question shone out of those expressive emerald eyes.

"Magic." the demon smiled, and made Harry feel even more in awe of this wonderful power that made everything better and cleaned everything up. He refused to look behind him, and see the corpse lying there.

"Come on, son. I'm sure all this activity has tiered you out, and it is getting late. Let's go home." the fatherly smile on his face was the most beautiful and enticing thing Harry had ever seen in his life.

Home. Such a simple word. And his hear burst with the thought that, for the very first time in his young life, it was a home.

The smile on the young boy's face was brilliant, and he felt joyful beyond belief. The small grain of guilt that tried to make itself known was doused by the brightly burning joy he felt, and that was exactly what the demon had intended all along...

Behind them, left in a dirty alleyway near a playground, the fresh corps of a young boy was lying in a puddle of blood, growing colder every second. And the night would fall without any little girls passing by there to find it...

The night breeze left a small trail of frost on the tiny corps, and the winter drew ever nearer...

* * *

A question to my dear readers.

I am contemplating to simply skip forward to Harry's Hogwarts letter to start off the next chapter. However... VERY many things are going down in Private Drive that is changing his, and everyone else's lives, compactly. As those of you picking up on the hints may have noticed.

I could skip forward, and have the life-changing events shown bits of in flashbacks as needed... OR I could flesh out the events before he gets to Hogwarts, which would make it take a few more chapters for him to reach school...

(I have every detail fairly fleshed out in my mind and in my notes, but I wouldn't want to bore you with Cults and secret conspiracies if you truly prefer to see him enter the Hogwarts part of the story quickly.)

So I ask you, my dear readers... Which option would you prefer?

Quickly to school? Or a fleshed out, sinful change of his childhood and neighborhood?

NOTES:

Remember: Asmodeus IS a demon. He will twist the truth to suit his purpose. And Harry is a child with a child's desperate need for his daddy's approval. One that is so strong that, even in the HP books, he bends over backwards to please the fake image of a dead dad that everyone else tells him about. Without even verifying that his dad actually would have wanted him to do what he did.

Just IMAGINE how bad that worship would have gotten if he replaced his father-figure with someone whom also saved him from the abusive Dursley's. Not to mention who keeps giving him all kinds of new and wonderful things and makes him happy. Gratitude is a powerful force all on it's own.

*It should be mentioned that every single one of the above-mentioned movies are horror movies that would cause the average kid wet his bed for at least a year, and sleep with his light on until high school...or for life. A demon is not very likely to understand the term 'inappropriate', in any sense of the word.

To go by the most 'child friendly' one; Spawn starts with a guy burning to death, includes very visual scenes of Hell and a perverted Satanic clown that makes lewd jokes all the time. And that's barely even scratching the surface.

*Harry have clearly watched History Chanel a little TOO much. (Which would be encouraged by Asmodeus, because it really DO teach you a lot about war strategies, as well as desensitizing you to all the shit in the world.)

And, believe me, that mishmash of historical facts, combined with the multitude of documentaries on how america has fucked up, paired with europe's common attitudes of the sheer idiocy and greed of american leaders will easily be meshed into forming that exact world view.


End file.
